Love After War
by aorin
Summary: Sometimes, the results of one night can return to haunt your life when you least expect it.


A/N: This piece is a bit of an experience where I'll try my best to keep the identity of Lenalee's love interest in the dark and will only reveal it much later in the story. But for those who know me, you would have probably figured out who it is but I must beg you to keep it a secret for now. So erm… yeah, thanks for reading and I hope you'll enjoy it, and reviews are always welcome.

000

Love After War

Prologue

Tonight was the last night.

It looked just like any other night. All those long nights where darkness swathed the skies, the bitter moon riding over the clouds, and the stars were always lost in shadows. Those nights were always cold, a raw chill so painful and numbing that it freezes the heart and hope of mankind.

Those were the nights the Earl was on the hunt.

But tonight, it all seemed different, a gentle mirror of all those dark, foreboding nights. Tonight the darkness in the sky had a velvety sheen to it, much like a comforting blanket on a cold night; the moon had been kinder, its light much like a soft caress and the stars were twinkling, a pulsing glow all through the night and the world felt warm and safe.

The Earl was gone.

It was all over.

000

The war had ended.

After thousands of years of hatred, destruction, ruin and death, the twisted battle between humans and the Earl had finally come to an end.

It had been three months since the demise of the Earl and the world had rejoiced with new hopes for the future. But despite mankind's triumph, leisure had not arrived swiftly to the hands of the Black Order and the Exorcists, for they had to deal with the aftermath of the brutal war. Many members had lost their lives on the tragic night of the battle and even for those who survived, very few of them escaped unscathed. Even now, there were still many victims who haven't recuperated fully from their injuries, and some of the Exorcists were still conformed to the medical wards.

Regardless of the situation, the belated celebration of victory was to be held that very night as the Headquarters would be emptied and no longer function the following day. It was a quick and harsh decision made by the council after the last battle, but nonetheless the appropriate one as the darks halls of the Black Order served no purpose after the destruction of the Earl along with the Innocence and the only thing which haunted these hollow corridors were memories of war and death.

Surprisingly, the demolition of 'Home' had met with much approval instead of protest. Apparently, many of them, despite their injuries were eager to return to their real homes, anxious to be in the arms of their loved ones and to embrace a brighter future. By the time the final night arrived, there were only a handful of members left in the Black Order, a shadow of what it once was.

But in spite of that, the remaining members and Exorcists decided to celebrate their hard-earned victory in full blast.

From the depths of the cafeteria chambers, Jeryy, the head chef had magically conjured up a sumptuous feast, pouring out rivers of food and drinks that was enough to feed a starving country. A far cry from the usual dull atmosphere, the high walls were covered with colourful drapes, the room decorated with festive, bright colours and the long dining tables were strewn with towering cakes, seas of pastries, mountains of candies and of course, fountains of wine for everyone.

The Exorcists and the staff came together as one to commemorate the event, not as leaders and subordinates, not as fellow colleagues and not even as war comrades but as good friends. Well-wishes and cheers could be heard all around the room, shouts and cries of undulated joy, as a jovial mood burst through the air and everyone was in high spirits.

Except Lenalee.

On the exterior, she seemed fine. Actually, she seemed better than fine, for she looked astoundingly radiant in her best dress – a light, fluttering pink evening gown – with her neatly brushed dark hair cascading down to her hips. It had taken her two full years to grow her hair back to its original length, and though at times, she felt more comfortable with a shorter cut, she kept it in memory of her lost friends. Her smile was dazzling beneath the beautifully lit room and she joined in the festivities like the rest, weaving amongst the crowd, dancing to the rhythm of the music, her feet light as she cast off the burdens.

No one noticed the tint of sadness in the depths of her eyes.

Even when she was dancing in the arms of others, her eyes quietly followed him, trailing his form like a faithful shadow, as she watched him spend the night with others. On occasion, whenever he caught her eye, he would acknowledge her with a friendly nod and then, return to whatever he was doing previously.

But he had not come to her, had not swept her in his arms and twirled her around the floor liked how she wished he would. He might if she asked of him, too polite to turn her down especially on this last night, but she didn't dare to go to him, in fear of her brother's well-known obsession. For sure, if Komui ever found out about her hidden feelings for him, he'd personally skin him alive and boil him for supper.

So, he kept his distance as how Komui would have liked it and expected of him… as with the entire male population of the Order. God, she loved her brother with all her heart, but the way he was hounding her at the moment and stealing all the waltzes, the ones she had saved for someone else, was seriously grating on her nerves. As night drew on, so did Lenalee's frustration of being babied by Komui and in poor revenge, she stomped on his feet whenever she could, earning pathetic yelps from her brother, who still refused to give her up.

In the end, Jeryy saved the day. As though sensing her womanly wishes, the Head Chef had stepped in and steered Komui away, babbling something about the night was for the young and poor old bachelors should move aside and drink themselves silly. It took a little convincing, but Komui finally conceded with much reluctance and promised her that he wouldn't interfere for the remainder of the night. Happily, she kissed her brother on his cheeks and bade him good night with a wave as he departed unhappily with Jeryy.

Having been relieved of her brother's watchful eyes for now, she quickly browsed around the room for him. She spotted him slouching at a corner with a glass of champagne in hand, deep in thought while swirling the drink in an absent-minded way. While tonight's celebration was not actually meant to be a white tie event, everyone was expected to dress their best and from what she could see, he was wearing a formal suit. His mannerism and posture struck her as imposing and handsome, even though his suit appeared slightly worn out, he could easily pass himself off as an aristocrat.

He stood a little away from the crowd and was alone.

Pursing her lips, Lenalee made her a beeline across the room towards him, determined to drag him out his solitude. Halfway across the dance floor, she was suddenly intercepted by a few eager young men, Finders if she wasn't mistaken, who graciously requested for a dance with her. With her scary brother out of the picture, these men took the rare god-bestowed opportunity to fight for the most eligible maiden's attentions. Like bees drawn to honey, they swooped down on her left and right, surrounding her with invitations to the upcoming dances while lavishing her with praises for her beauty, gracefulness and another bundle of shining qualities that Lenalee was pretty sure she didn't possess.

Not used to the socialite-like attention, Lenalee honestly didn't know how to reject their advances, her eyes darted around anxiously, hoping for someone to come and rescue her from the scene. Sadly, rescue didn't arrive like she hoped for and she was left to fend for herself from the pack of persistent young bachelors.

At the other end of the room, her own brother was deep in conversation with some Branch Chiefs and scientists, birds of his feathers, sequestered in their own private quarters, her own close friends were either unavailable or nowhere to be seen, while he – Lenalee felt a pang of pain in her chest – he didn't seem to notice her plight.

Deep down she desperately wanted these men to leave her in peace so she may go to him, but at the same time, she didn't want to hurt their feelings by denying their sincere albeit rather forward request, therefore she accepted their invitations with an artificial smile and allowed them to guide her to the dance floor. But before she proceeded, she turned her head around and sneaked one last glance at him.

Alas, she missed the mutual eye-contact by one beat because it was then he decided to look away and continue savouring his drink.

From that point, the evening seemed to go downhill and dragged on forever. Eventually, Lenalee lost count of the dances she had participated in and was no longer able to recognise the faces of her partners. Her head was dizzy from the overenthusiastic courtship, her feet ached painfully and she was about to collapse from the continual dancing and overwhelming attention. She felt the entire ordeal was almost equivalent to facing a militia of blood-thirsty Akumas, but only a hundred times more tiring because, while she didn't need to please those murderous living weapons, she had to keep a cheery façade in front of her dance partners.

Finally, she called an end to the folly when she saw him heading swiftly towards the exit. It took all of her patience and dignity not to shove her partner aside and chase after him. Of course, being Lenalee, she settled with an apology, explaining that she was overcome by weariness and would like to retire for the night. It would seem that men generally like dainty, helpless ladies, because almost immediately she was escorted to a chair and worshipped like a pretty china doll. The situation became even more absurd when the boys rushed off and fought to bring her drinks from the refreshment counter.

Oh. Surely, they wouldn't notice her absence.

Quietly, with the stealth of skilled soldier, she snuck out of the cafeteria, leaving the rowdy crowd behind her.

000

Her footsteps echoed loudly through the empty corridors, devoid of human presence and warmth. She breathed a sigh, which formed a misty air and she wrapped her hands around body to warm herself. It hadn't been a particularly cold night, but the flimsy dress she had on, with its light material and her bare arms and shoulders did nothing to shield her from the chilly breeze.

All the while, she wondered where he could possibly be.

It had been a while since they last talked.

After the war, they had both been hospitalized for a while in different wards segmented specifically to gender. She didn't dare to risk visiting him, not even with the excuse of visiting other fellow Exorcists, as she was worried that her concern might drew suspicions from her brother or the Matron. All she could do was to pray every night for his quick recovery.

After a month, she heard he was finally released from the care of the medics, but she never did manage to seek him out as he was immediately assigned to outdoor tasks due to the shortage of manpower. No longer an Exorcist, he didn't have to carry out dangerous missions but the assignments usually took him away for days… and sometimes, even longer. She herself had been engaged in her own errands, working around the clock in the presence of her brother, making it even more difficult for them to see each other.

She realised she had missed him badly.

Quickening her steps, she made her way down the deserted hallway, slipping through twists and turns, trying to remember his usual haunts. She had no idea where he could be and suspected he might have retired for the night. Even though it's unbecoming for a lady to visit him in his bedroom at this late hour and who knows how would he react in seeing her, nevertheless, she was determined to find him.

She was never honest with her feelings for him and tonight might be their last chance to be together.

On her way to the living quarters, she passed by the grand entrance and she heard the small sound emitting from the Great Hall. Lenalee might not borne superior hearing like Noise Marie, but as a trained warrior, she could easily distinguish what she heard as the sound of glass clinking. Curiosity got the better of her and she approached the slightly ajar door, faint light pouring through the tiny crack and she peeked in.

And there he was.

He was lying on his back at the centre of the wide dais situated at the end of the giant hall, one knee tented while the other lay still as he gazed up at the patterns on the ceiling. From what she could see, there was a bottle of brandy beside him and he was holding a glass half-filled with wine. She watched him as he cocked his head up and downed another mouthful, closing his eyes to savour the taste as he rested his head back on his forearm.

Her heart pounded wildly and she felt warm as her eyes travelled slowly over his lean body, basked in the dim glow of the candlelight. She could barely see his face, obscured by the darkness but she saw a faraway look in his eyes, as though he was observing something beyond the ceiling, some place her eyes couldn't reach. He seemed so enraptured with his own thoughts that he was obviously unaware of her arrival.

Not wanting to startle him, she cleared her throat and clicked her heels a little loudly to notify him of her presence. He was snapped out of his quiet reverie, his body shot up and reflectively, he struck a defensive stance, ready to protect himself from the intruder. Lenalee was a little frightened by the severity on his face and nervously, she stepped into the light. She saw his eyes widened at her appearance, surprise written all over his face. He stared at her lengthily, silent and intense, as though wondering if she was a figment of his inebriated imagination or was she truly there.

"Lenalee," he finally breathed, acknowledging her presence, his voice scratched and husky from the cold. She stood frozen, her skin tingling, in fright, in shyness, in anticipation, at the way he murmured her name.

"May I join you?" she tried with a sweet smile, thankful that her voice didn't crack with nervousness.

She felt disappointed when he didn't return her smile but his grim expression softened, and he gave her a nod of approval, then as an act of courtesy, he clumsily pushed the bottle of brandy behind his back to conceal it from her sight. He scooted over a little to give her room, an unnecessary move because there was plenty of space on the empty dais but nevertheless, she said nothing of it and seated herself right next to him, crossing her hands over her lap.

She remained silent, picking on the folds of her dress, while watching him fiddle with the glass between his fingers, he looked a little tipsy. Thanks to her past bad experiences, Lenalee usually held a small degree of distaste for drunks but she found him, with his skin flushed and hazy eyes to be strangely endearing. It was almost like discovering a new side of him as she knew he didn't take too well to bitter alcohol and yet, here he was now, perched on the Great Hall with a bottle of brandy.

Unknowingly, she elicited a soft giggle at the irony of everything. His fingers stopped twiddling and he turned his gaze to her, his face set into a puzzling look.

"It has been a wonderful evening," she started, breaking the awkwardness with a gentle smile. The night hadn't been all bad, apart from the little trouble she had back at the mess hall, but now she had found him, her spirits soared. "Did you enjoy yourself?'

There was a slight twitch on the corner of his lips and he gave her indefinite shrug that was neither no nor yes.

"It's been a while since we had a huge party like this," she continued, attempting to lighten up the mood. "Remember how we used to celebrate whenever a new member of the Order arrived. Nii-chan would create all sorts of excuses to celebrate, just to make them all feel more at home."

"So it seems," he replied, void of emotion and rested an elbow on his bended knee. It might not be his intention, but it seemed to her that he was deliberately forming an invisible barrier between them with his callous actions and words. His taciturn behaviour tonight confounded her; he didn't usually behave like this. By no means was he rude but he wasn't exactly being cordial either.

"It was a lot of trouble, we usually have to go through great lengths to hide it from the curious newcomers and there was just so much preparation to be done secretly. But it was always worthwhile in the end, memories worth cherishing and I…," she tucked a hair behind her ear nervously, "… I'm really going to miss this place… it's not much but this is the only home I've truly known and all the people here are important to me, especially..."

Especially _you_, the forbidden words almost escape her lips, but she recovered quickly, "… especially the Science Division."

His face tightened into a grimace for a split second, but he quickly erased it with an emotionless expression. It was so sudden that Lenalee thought she imagined it and a sense of uneasiness crept into her. She was pretty certain that he didn't harbour any ill feelings for the Science Division, so there's no way he could be angry that she mentioned them. It was also unlikely that he was jealous, since everyone knew what this division meant to her personally and how she regarded them like an extended family. Besides, if he truly treasured her company, why would he be alienating her, treating her as if they were strangers?

She didn't understand the reason he acted so distant and withdrawn, almost like he preferred to be left alone… _almost like he didn't want to be there_, she thought helplessly and the notion struck a chord in her.

"Will you miss the Order after you leave?" she asked, barely above a whisper and her hands nearly reached for his as though to hold him back but she managed to stop herself in time.

Obviously he heard her because his face darkened slightly as he looked the other direction, clearly uncomfortable with the question or the answer in his mind. She held her breath as she watched him clenched his fist, watched as the different emotions flashed across his eyes, watched as he pinched them shut for a flickering moment and reopened them, resolution sketched deep and solid.

"We have to keep on walking, move on to the future." He lifted his head and spoke to the darkness, his voice soft but clear. "We did not fight, shed blood and life to stay where we are, we sacrifice all we had for something more, something better, something the past can't offer, something that can only be found in the future."

At that, Lenalee blushed furiously and berated herself for being such a child, clinging to the past like a child clinging to their mother. Unlike him, she was incredibly fearful of the future. Having been detached from normal society since a tender age of six, she wasn't even sure if she could ever fit in properly again. The idea of stepping into a new world, a so-called peaceful world, scared her and even more so when her friends wouldn't be there to support her.

But most importantly, she feared it because she didn't know if his heart had any place for her tomorrow.

He was only half right about moving on because he didn't realise what the past meant to her. In their past together, she knew herself to be his ally, understood that he cared for her as a friend or sister, and sometimes, even though it could be just wishful thinking, she felt that his affection for her bordered something more.

Furtively, she snuck a glance at him. He had changed so much since she first met him and the harshness from the last two years was etched all over his features. He was no longer the wide-eyed boy she remembered when he first arrived at the Headquarters. He was a grown man now.

As though sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned his sights on her. Unable to bear his gaze, she lowered her eyes and bit her lip, the pain allowed her to ignore the embarrassment. It's bad enough he had a terrible impression on her, and now he caught her studying him.

Salvaging all that was remained of her courage, she tried to rectify the situation and said, "I guess you are right, it's foolish to keep on looking behind and not realise the road ahead of us."

Lenalee heard him release a long sigh but she couldn't decipher whether it made out of frustration or affirmation. She didn't dare even to lift her head to confirm it, knowing that she would be saddened by both responses. She wished for some kind of momentary distraction and her eyes landed on the cup of wine in his hand.

"Would you mind if I had a sip?" she asked suddenly, her fingers gesturing at the glass. He raised a curious eyebrow at the request, sharing drinks (even clothes at times) wasn't an uncommon practice for them as Exorcists on battlefield, especially when their missions led them to remote places which didn't have basic amenities but it was not something they would do when they were back at the Headquarters.

Though, if he was shocked, he didn't show it. She was relieved when he didn't question her, taking her request at face value or perhaps, he was just too polite to point it out. She watched him pick up the bottle dutifully, filled half of the glass and gave it to her. Carefully, she turned the glass around and drank from the side which didn't touch his lips. It was strong liquor, the burning sensation scorched her throat and she almost choked, tears pooling at the corners of eyes. Grinning apologetically, she returned it to him who emptied the remains in one single gulp, completely unaffected.

"What will you do?" she said, the moment he put down the wineglass, the sound of glass meeting surface almost swallowed her question.

When they were still Exorcists, they hardly discuss about the future and what other paths they might tread. Dreaming about the future was not a luxury they were entitled to, not when mankind were on the brink of extinction, not when their friends and families lives were at stake, not when their destiny were clouded in a haze of uncertainty. No, she never asked him, not once in all the years she known him even though she had a slight inkling of his decision.

Lenalee regretted she didn't get to know him better.

"Continue doing what I always did, it's about time," he answered without hesitation and her heart sunk because her intuition was right. The steadfastness in his answer confirmed that this decision had inhabited his mind for quite a while. He never intended to linger longer than he needed to, nothing in the Order could keep him, and certainly not her.

"What about you?" he asked, hollow, an enquiry out of courtesy than concern.

"I… me… I don't know, I have never really thought about it," she stammered, her cheeks flaming under his scrutiny, embarrassed that she couldn't answer his first question for the evening. She honestly never thought about her time beyond the Order as it always felt to her as though she would either die or spend her life there. "I suppose I shall find a new home with onii-chan."

He nodded slowly, more solemn than usual and then turned away. He was sitting so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating from his warm body, but his eyes were distant, miles away as though he weren't there and she felt lonely despite him keeping her company.

It was as though he had already left.

He must have noticed her shivering because she suddenly felt a layer of cloth draped over her. She tugged it down and realised it was his jacket, then she jerked her head up to look at him but he already looked away with his head perched on his palm. She clutched his coat tighter to her body shyly, the lingering warmth gave her the feeling as though she was enveloped in his strong arms. She muttered 'thanks' softly but he showed no indication that he had heard her.

"You will be safe with him," he murmured, his face completely concealed from her view. There was kindness in his voice and strangely, a tint of disappointment which shouldn't be there. It gave Lenalee a sense of hope that perhaps he did actually cared about her plight despite his reserved conduct.

"Where would you go?" she dared herself to ask the question that had been burning in the back of her mind ever since the war ended. Would he take her along, would he disappear without a trace, taking her heart with him? She knew that if she didn't ask him now, she would never have the chance again.

He still refused to turn around, unwilling to face her. After what felt like eternity, he finally answered softly as though speaking to himself. "To a place which needs me."

Something in her snapped. Like a spring that had been wounded too tightly, her emotions exploded, years of carefully guarded passions broke to the surface and she hugged him. Her slender arms circled around his waist and she leaned onto his back, tears streaming down her cheeks. She must have tended to his injuries for uncountable times during their missions and practically seen every inch of him, clinically, clothed or not, but she never realised how firm his chest was, how broad his shoulders were, how well they actually fit together.

She felt his back stiffen against her and she gently whispered the words from the depths of her heart, "I need you."

Her confession was met with painful silence. The whole room stood still, charged with tension as she waited for his reply, her heart ramming wildly against her ribcage, and so was his. She swallowed her tears back as best as she could and tightened her hold on him, pulling herself closer to him, afraid he might vanish. She had never been so nervous in her life.

"The wine had gotten into your system," he said without turning his head, placing his hands over hers lightly. It remained that way for a while, and then gently, he pried her fingers off his torso. "You are upset and the alcohol had clouded your judgment," he added in a matter-of-fact tone layered with finality.

"I'm not…," she protested, colour draining from her face. How could he just shrug her off like that and insist she was drunk? Didn't he realise she had just confessed her feelings to him? His words seared through her heart, swift as a merciless blade.

"You are tired," he cut her off, standing up abruptly, causing Lenalee to loose her balance. If she was any less agile, she would have hurt herself falling face front, but she managed to uphold her body by placing her hands in front of her. He was standing below the stairs, one of his hands was outstretched as though he was just about to lunged forward to catch her, his face a mingle of alarm and remorse. They locked gaze for a moment, unable to speak and then he looked away, eyes shuttered and hidden, "I… I'll accompany you back to your room."

He didn't apologise. Or perhaps this feeble offer was the only way he knew how.

With the remaining dignity she had, she inclined her head with a polite nod, her violet eyes downcast. Accepting her silence, he went up to her and offered a hand to help her off the floor. With much reluctance, she placed her hands in his, noting how large and rough his palm was. Hers was no better, old scars and calluses fanned over the surface of her palm, coarsened hands that didn't belong to a maiden. Self-conscious, she retrieved her hand from his hastily as though she was scalded after he pulled her up.

"We better be going," he told her, his voice a low guttural rasp and he looked uncomfortable. Without waiting for her to respond, or more likely not expecting any to come, he padded down the stairs, two steps at a time and she followed, closely but not nearly so.

How many steps would it take before he leaves her? With a heavy heart, Lenalee counted each step, her eyes focused on the ground as she walked behind him. He led her without asking for directions, his footsteps steady and quick-paced like he was in a hurry to be rid of her.

It pained her to think that this journey might be the last one that they would share together, their friendship ending in miserable shambles just because she was honest with her feelings for him. What she felt for him was not something which occurred overnight or out of loneliness, it was something that she had nurtured for many years, a secret she kept locked in her heart. She always meant to tell him someday: when the war was over, when peace had been restored, when they were free to love and be loved.

But now, it was too late.

Suddenly, he stopped and she nearly collided into his back. Her brows dropped into a light frown, wondering what had caused him to stop. Looking up, she realised they were in front of her room and her heart plummeted. Was this to be the end of it?

She heard him huffed an impatient sigh and then, he turned around to face her with a neutral expression. He stood there, hands in pockets and stared at her, his eyes cold as glass. Realising his jacket was still on her shoulders; she quickly removed the garment, folded it as neatly as possible and presented it back to him with both hands. Her heart was filled with poignant grief but she managed a gentle smile. "Thank you."

He took it from her but didn't put it on again, his eyes swept over the jacket and he clenched his jaw in resentment. He held it roughly and spoke in a bitter, self-loathing voice that would continue to haunt her for years to come. "This is all I can offer to you."

Lenalee couldn't speak. Her heart ached with unimaginable pain as she griped her hands tightly until her knuckles turned white, her nails digging into her skin, forming blood crescents. How foolish of her to ever believe she might be more than a friend to him, to believe he would take her with him, to believe he actually loved her like she loved him. No, it was all her own girlish fantasies of him; she had loved him for so long, so dearly that she was completely blinded by her feelings to ever notice that he didn't, never felt the same for her.

It was all over now.

Masking her feelings with a sad smile, Lenalee reached for the doorknob, cold steel against skin, cold as her heart and she fumbled with it, her hands shaking uncontrollably and it required more effort than usual to twist it. Frustrated and upset, she bit her lip and forced some strength on the knob and it clicked open at long last. She entered her room swiftly and twirled around to look at him one last time.

If this were to be their end, she would at least smile for him.

He remained outside her room, rooted to the ground as she closed the door, watching him as the gap grew smaller, slowly shutting him from her life.

Suddenly, he jammed a hand through the gap and with one swipe, threw the door wide open. His uncharacteristic action shocked her into silence and before she knew it, she found herself drawn into his arms forcefully. He held her, all of her and stroked her hair tenderly as though she was the most precious thing in the world. To say Lenalee was surprised was an understatement: she was stunned still, her head resting on the curve of his shoulder and her hands dangled limply on her sides, unable to comprehend what he was doing.

"Lenalee," he murmured softly and brushed his lips lovingly on her hair. "Thank you for everything."

"Please," she whispered _his name _into his ear, her voice trembling. "I need you." Feeling faint, she buried herself deeper into his embrace and he growled.

"Damn it all," he swore through gritted teeth and pushed her away, but only as far as a handbreadth, his hands still looped possessively around her waist. She saw in his face that he was already regretting his decision, but his piercing eyes were determined as he stepped into her room. Her fears vanished when he knotted his fingers in her hair and planted a hungry kiss on her lips, ravaging her untouched, virgin petals even before the door was shut.

Lenalee didn't know how it happened. All she knew was that she was clinging onto him as though her world would crumble if she let go. In her heart, she understood the grim possibility of him leaving her and that this was all a brief heat of passion, a final gift he couldn't deny her... or himself.

It was a great price to pay and even now, she knew she was already ruined. This one night would either present her a lifetime of happiness or cost her unending sorrow. But even so, she would willingly gamble this moment, giving herself up to him, using her body as a chain to bind him to her if only he would continue to stay with her. There would be no more inhibitions, no more secrets no barriers between them, she belonged eternally to him and only him.

Tonight was their last night.

000

The next morning, Lenalee woke up to the bright sunshine pouring in from her window, the light pricking on her eyelids relentlessly. It took a great deal of strength for her to pry open her eyes and when she stretched her limbs, she felt her body was aching all over, sore and tired from yesterday's exertion.

Yesterday. Last night.

Him.

All the memories flooded through her mind like a rush of wave to the shore, washing away the last vestiges of sleep as it recedes. Her eyes snapped wide open and she rolled to her side, her hands reaching out tentatively to touch… him. Her fingers met with soft cold sheets, the space next to her empty.

Distress gripped her but a glint from the vanity table caught her attention and her hand reached for it. Her breath hitched in her throat when she realised what it actually was and her face broke into a smile. It was his most prized possession, something that had never left his side, not even once during all his years of service at the Black Order. Once it had been compulsory, the limb of a soldier, the sigil of an Exorcist, an extension of his will,

She was delighted as she picked it up and pressed it to her bosom, to ensure herself that what happened between them last night wasn't just a wonderful dream. If it wasn't for the item he left for her on the table, Lenalee would have thought she dreamt everything.

Well, not everything…. For starters, there were tiny bruises decorating her nubile body, and then, there was this throbbing pain between her inner thighs and lastly, the unmistakable stain of red dotting her bed sheets. All of these were solid proof that she had lost her innocence to the man she loved last night.

She pulled the covers over her chest and smiled bashfully, if she closed her eyes, she could almost feel his fingers and lips marking sensual imprints all over her body again. Of course, he had to steal away before dawn, god knows what would happen if someone saw him sneaking out of her room in a suspicious state. And heaven help them all if Komui got wind of it.

There had been an irrevocable satisfaction and fulfilment of lying with the man who possessed all of her heart and her soul. Last night, he had been very gentle with her, loving and teasing her in ways that no other man ever had or ever would. Lenalee had never known any man intimately and she was inexperienced, shy and downright nervous upon the act of consummation.

It wasn't unpleasant though.

Contrary to it, the exploration and joining of two bodies had brought her ecstasy she had never thought possible before and even now, she was basking in the aftermath of his passions, pleasurable languor bewitching her mind. He was a considerate lover, accepting her inadequacies and worshipped her like a goddess, his hands paying homage to her beauty and she had gloried in his amorous affections. What they did last night had bind them together, flesh and soul, she belonged only to him.

Perhaps her overly dramatic brother might have complained (and cried an ocean) that she was far too young to understand real love and it was much, much, _much_ too early (eighty years old might be a good age) to settle down with a lifelong partner. But in her heart, Lenalee knew she could not love anyone more than him.

Surely, she must have meant something to him for last night to happen. She had no idea what the future had installed for them but if there's one thing she wanted, it was for him to be a constant in her life and hers in his. There was longing in her heart and she was suddenly overcome by the urge to see him again, wanting to kiss him and tell him how much she loved him.

But before that, she had to clean and groom herself, she couldn't possibly walk out of her room in her current state without drawing questions. Throwing the covers off, she proceeded to remove the stained bed sheets, taking it with her into the washroom. Komui had the tendency to intrude into her bedroom without any warning and she had to destroy the evidence. And he did mention (repeatedly) that he was going to help her pack later…

Quickly, she filled up a bucket of water and doused the blood-stained sheets in it. No, her brother must never find out, well… at least, not until she believed he's mentally prepared for the revelation and physically disabled to do anything about it.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror and suddenly paused. She looked like a mess, her normally thoroughly brushed hair was tangled in wild knots, her eyes were a little bloodshot, and her neck… she felt more red rushing up to her face as she observed the tiny little bruises spanning across her neck down to her bust. Her hands shot up to cover her neck, as though the mere action would conceal the evidence her wanton behaviour the night before.

But despite the marring, she noticed the soft glow on her skin.

Her eyes travelled down… she stopped herself and moved away from the mirror, embarrassed to inspect any lower. Leaving the soaked sheets, she turned on the shower, allowing the steam to fog the room, as she scrub herself clean, her senses tingling.

When she finished, she quickly wrapped a towel around her body, exited the bathroom and attacked her cupboard, throwing out throngs of clothes over her shoulder. Due to her unusual upbringing, the young Exorcist wasn't naturally vain and she placed very little to no value in aesthetic charm, usually opting for comfort and convenience more than beauty. But today, she wanted to look pretty for him.

Finally, after much deliberation, Lenalee settled on an adorable baby blue dress with matching stockings and heels. Checking her appearance in the mirror one more time, she gave herself a once over and brushed out her hair and easing out the tangles in it, then, on impulse, secured a pretty hair clip over hair above her ear. Satisfied with the way looked, she went out of the room to search for him.

It was still quite early in the morning, so she figured he would have probably returned to his own room to freshen up and get a change of clothes. Maybe she could invite him for breakfast and they could spend some quality time with their friends (or at least those who were still sober after last night's party), after all, this was the last chance for all of them to get together as everyone would be on their way shortly. Then she would pull him aside to some secluded area where they could talk about… things. She just prayed that her brother wouldn't find them until everything had been said and done.

She pressed her fingers to her lips to temper a giggle as she traipsed down the quiet hallway, a bounce in her steps and her heart skipped as she drew closer to his room. There weren't many people at that hour, most of them still unconscious from the unruly party and those who passed by her didn't find her high spirits unusual. It was only natural for her to be happy, after all, the war was over and she was starting a new chapter in her life.

If only they knew the true reason behind her smiles.

When she arrived at his door, her gaiety was replaced by tensed nerves. To make herself more presentable, she adjusted her dress, smoothing out the creases and dusting off the dirt. All the while she was stalling her time, thinking what to say to him – how do lovers greet each other after a night of passion anyway – her cheeks grew hot at the thought.

She breathed in and out, in an attempt to calm her heart and she slapped her cheeks a few times, adding hues of red to her already blushing skin, to buff up her diminishing courage. _Get hold of yourself, Lenalee_, she scolded herself and then, she raised her hand and rapped gently at the wooden door.

Stepping back, fingers fidgeting behind her, Lenalee waited anxiously for him to answer. Minutes passed but no one came to the door. Could he be taking a shower in the bathroom? She blushed prettily from head to toe at the mental image, especially vivid after their consummation last night. If someone had passed by her then, they might have thought she was brimming with high fever.

Patiently, she waited for another few moments before giving the door another firm knock. Still, no one answered. Cautiously, Lenalee scanned the area and when she was assured that no one was around she pressed her hand to the knob and twisted it. It wasn't locked and the door swung opened.

The sight caused her blood to turn cold.

His room was empty, deserted. The air was still and there was a kind of musky smell pervading the room, the floor and furniture were swept clean and the bed… the mattress was missing. There was no sign of life, barren and silent, as though no occupant had lived there for years.

There was no one.

He was gone.

Lenalee fell into a deep, black gulf, darkness swirling around her. Her face, her pretty face froze into a stone-like numbness as she backtracked out of the room. Her heel knocked over box behind her and she tripped, falling and chaffing her knees. It bled, but she was too shocked to realise the pain, to shaken to move and she found it hard to breath, like her lungs were drowned in water. Everything around her was muted into a dream-like state, and in a daze, she soon found herself back in her room, not knowing how she wandered back.

No, he couldn't.

Yes he did.

But last night.

Was their _last _night.

Lenalee saw his prized possession lying on her bed and then, the realisation hit her, harder and more shattering than any blow she had ever received: He had not forgotten about it, he left it there because he didn't need it any longer.

This memento encompassed all his memories of the Black Order, the war and her.

To abandon it here meant that he had foregone the Exorcist in him, that part of his life and everything that was related to it.

He had left her.

000


End file.
